Thoughts on life, love, the kitchen, kids and the stuff of life.
It could be the casserole today or meditation at 12am - it's part of me. You too I'm sure.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

What you couldn't see

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photo credit - www.freedigitalphotos.net
"Sunrise In The Sea With Softwave And Cloudy" by moggara12

I miss the way it used to be.

Memories abound -

Of afternoon sunshine warming our toes. Dust motes cloaked in gold waltzed to a saxophone symphony, somehow wrapping us in musical notes that heightened the sense of blue sky, belonging and love.
Warm breezes drifted laden with roasting, baking, spicy enchantment every time she opened the kitchen doors, anklets ringing an announcement of busy-ness. He, fresh from a shower would waltz into our gilded space, dancing with an imaginary someone, before he grabbed her arms, causing the anklets to tink-tink in time with their steps.

You, in your shorts, persistently skinny, lazed on the gold sofas, scuffed knees over the armrest, toes wiggling in a beam of sun. I watched my life, grateful for moments, certain that you and I would remember it, just so in some distant time. Where distances between you and me could be bridged with memories and shared hope, laughter and the love that existed as surely as the air that we breathe.

I remind myself of this today, when battling the deep sorrow that I fight often, realizing that the love I saw then, would not be enough for you to remember with gladness. That every memory I ever had with you, was only of light and love, and most of your memories, a battle between you and yourself. The love has been enough to take me through harsher times, and for you, there was not that strength to fall back upon, perhaps because you could not see it.

I tell my heart to still, and reassure it. My heart and I know of love, and you, standing in it's midst, could not see it, for it's brightness hurt your eyes.

Perhaps one day, you will wear your shades, and be able to face what we had. Perhaps one day, we'll both see it the same way. Neither yours nor mine.

Soon enough, that you open to those who remain from those times. Time and people, go one way.